


How Gods Are Born, How Heroes Are Made

by visionaryScribe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, God Tier, John Egbert and Jade Harley are Siblings, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, POV Dirk Strider, POV Jake English, POV Jane Crocker, POV Roxy Lalonde, POV Third Person Limited, Past Jake English/Dirk Strider, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Rose Lalonde and Dave Strider are Twins, Superstuck, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 06:10:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15880137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionaryScribe/pseuds/visionaryScribe
Summary: This new world that Jake found himself in, he thought, was exactly the same as the one he had left.He hoped he was wrong.Jane figured that this was a chance for them all to have the lives they should've had.She was right, but life always takes unexpected turns.Dirk just wanted to be able to interact with people and be normal for a while.His heart told him that wasn't going to be happening any time soon.Roxy quickly realizes this is not some happy ever after.Too bad she can't just conjure one up from the void.





	1. Chapter 1

**Jake**

Jake thought he was living out a memory at first.

 

What he was seeing was not anything like he’d been expecting to see.

 

His Nanna was on the shore. He had been seven years old the last time he’d seen her.

 

She wasn’t moving. Her gun was laying a few feet away, half buried in the sand. She never left the house without a gun. He hadn’t left that afternoon without his pistols either, just like she instructed. Jake wasn’t seven anymore, he was sixteen and yet he was seeing this all over again. Somehow.

 

Jake was shaking, his pistols rattling as he did. He didn’t want to go through it again. He didn’t want to pull her all the way up to the house on the hill on their island, oh his island, again.

 

He looked down at his pistols like he had before and saw they were different. They were gold with strange white lettering engraved along the sides that seemed to glow. His Nanna had told him that one was the sun, the other was the wolf. The wolf that chased the sun.

 

Jake doesn’t remember her ever telling him this, or her ever gifting this to him. He only remembered a regular pair of pistols.

 

But did that matter when he was back inside a memory he didn’t want to relive?

 

Still shaking, he hauled himself and his unmoving Nanna back up the island, careful of predators, careful to use only one of his pistols on the strange, oftentimes deadly monsters in the area. The look of it firing was like Roxy’s gun charging a shot. The feel of it was off, too. It hummed as it charged, for all of a second, before the blast of gold-white light tore through the creature but didn’t kill them. Instead they glowed. Instead they became docile and let him pass.

 

This was not how Jake remembered this going.

 

He got to the front door, into the first large room he didn’t care to name, and let his Nanna lie in a space off to the side while he caught his breath.

 

How had this originally gone?

 

He didn’t rightly know anymore.

 

Jake took the transportalizer up the tower to the corridor where his room was. He had to get away for a couple minutes to think. Not too long though.

 

Upon getting to the corridor though he heard a commotion in his room. A darkness crept at the edge of his vision and he brought both of his guns out to bear. He cautiously inched the door open to see what it was.

 

He catches a glimpse of green light bright enough blind man, and opened the door to see Jade, the younger version of his Nanna, standing there in front of him.

  


**Jane**

Jane didn’t know how far the water would rise.

 

It hadn’t stopped raining for days.

 

Her father had left to help anyone trapped in their homes yesterday and had yet to come back. Jane wasn’t sure if there’d be anything left to stand on when he did. Right now she was at the second story, with John beside her, debating just loud enough to be heard over the rain. The wind wasn’t a problem. John had made sure of that. But now her dad had gone and presumably his dad too.

 

Jane was worried the roof would start leaking. John tried to blast the rain away from their house, but it just kept on coming and she eventually asked him to stop and conserve his energy for another time.

 

The whole first floor was flooded by now. John had whisked everything he could upstairs, but the result was a cluttered mess out of his and their dads rooms while they huddled in hers. The air conditioner and power had long since blown and it was cold, so they focused on ways to keep warm and dry while snacking on what food John had been able to save from the pantry.

 

“Maybe you should leave.” She suggested once they’d run out of food to snack on and games to pass the time.

 

“What? No!” Was the response she was met with.

 

“You can though. We can still fly and better still you can turn into the wind. Maybe even do that teleport thing.”

 

“I’d be leaving you here to wait for our dads and that’s just not going to happen, Jane. At best I think I can try to maybe direct the storm away from here but it’s _so big_.”

 

“It’s really that big? I had hoped they were exaggerating that it was as large as the state. I mean, there’s a mountain range for pete’s sake, shouldn’t that, I don’t know, break it up some? Or weaken it?”

 

“If anything they were understating it. It covers most of the state on this side of the mountains though, so while it doesn’t cover the entire state, with as much of it as there is out at sea, they weren’t exactly lying. There’s just… so much. I can feel it.” The lightning that flashed was the only light they had to go by, saving up the batteries in flashlights and the chargers for their phones should anything worse happen. They’d already resigned to a fate of no WiFi and limited battery life on both their phones and especially their laptops.

 

“When do you think they’ll get back?”

 

“Soon, I hope. That way we can leave and then. I don’t know. Regroup with the others and come back to help.”

 

“But what if they don’t come back soon? We can’t just wait here. Maybe we can go out and look for them together, or see who could use some help. That way you wouldn’t be leaving me and we can help people along the way. You can help us not get rained on, and I can see if I can do a lifey sort of thing to locate our dads!”

 

John hummed as he thought, his face twisting up into something resembling the look Jane’s dad got when he was focusing on something.

 

“If you think you can-” Another flash of lightning and a boom of thunder right over top of them cut him off. Both of them winced.

 

John tried again, “Can you try the lifey thing here, first? At least so we know what direction to start looking?”

 

Jane shook off the blanket she and John had wrapped themselves up in, settling the part she’d been using around John some more before standing up and sitting at the edge of her bed. She closed her eyes and concentrated. She had used Life to heal before, during the final showdown, so she should be able to call on it again, right? And from there it shouldn’t be too much of a stretch to do something like what John can do, and feel like life around her in the same way that John could feel the wind.

 

Not that she’d be able to become the wind like he could. She was a maid, not an heir.

 

Like a candle wick catching fire, John’s life sprung up in her sight even though she still had her eyes firmly shut. On instinct she almost opened them again to see, but fought against it. She took a moment to examine what his life looked like in this state. It was definitely like a flame, but also strangely like rivers of water, in that the water flowed to and from the fire along set lines.

 

The heart, the veins, the arteries. Blood flow. The flow of life.

 

John’s life-fire flickered, grew and returned to its normal size in time with what she assumed was his heartbeat. The rest of him reminded her of darkened, saturated soil, a darker blue to his brilliant royal blue flame and rivers that grew lighter as it reached his skin, and from there? From there it rolled over and around him flowing off of him like steam or fog moving across the surface of a lake, or an ocean.

 

“I see you.” Her own voice sounded like she was speaking to someone who was underwater, muffled and distorted, “I’ll start looking outward more, now.”

 

Jane got up, sensing John do the same, and once he took her hand she knew their surroundings had shifted. There was an overwhelming taste of mint in her mouth and she expected there to be rain hitting her like bullets due to the sound of it around her but John was doing a good job of keeping it away.

 

Coughing some, Jane kept her eyes closed even still and stretched that lifey thing she’d discovered she could sense. For what felt like a long time, there was only the feeling she got when she was trying to think of a word and it was on the tip of her tongue. It was right _there_! She just had to reach a little farther.

 

“Jane?” John’s voice cut through her concentration, but instead of distracting her, it ended up being just what she needed for a cluster of lights to pop up, one by one, along with a trail of others between her and them.

 

“I see several people that way. And a few dogs.” Jane gestured with an index finger, “But I can’t tell from here who is out there, or if our dads are with them.”

 

“Well then. Let’s go see.” Jane blinked her eyes open, finding herself squinting against both the dark and the strange double vision she was receiving since the life vision had yet to turn off. Jane flew at a steady pace which had John flying in circles around her. Whether it was to help expel pent up energy or whether it had something to do with their surroundings, Jane didn’t really know. She could guess, sure, but picking up subtle clues and puzzling things like this out was what made up half of her fun once the assassins really cracked down and she had to stay inside the house more often than not.

 

As the two of them passed by people on their roofs or the second stories of their homes, they stopped for a while to see if there was anyway to help out. Whether that was gaining some people who followed them toward the larger group Jane had sensed earlier, most of the time, or whether it was finding someone’s lost dog that had gotten trapped several houses away, they did it.

 

Eventually though they did reach the group. Jane sped up, seeing their fathers up ahead and making John stay back with the rest of the group they’d amassed along the way. When everyone was on relatively stable rooftops, both Crocker-Egbert kids hugged their dads for all they were worth.

 

“Jane! Oh, you’re flying, my girl, look at you.” Jane wiped some tears from her dad’s face, stubbornly ignoring her own, “And you’ve helped all these people?” Here she nodded, “I’m so proud of you. You just continue to amaze me, you know that?”

 

“I think I knew that by the time I was eight, dad.” She laughed into his shoulder, “I just located you guys. John’s the one that did most of the work getting people here without them being overly wet.”

 

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Came John’s protest right on cue, even though she was facing away so she couldn’t see his face, “You helped plenty! If it weren’t for you that baby might not have calmed down and we might have not found that dog.” She could clearly imagine the pout he would later deny ever making.

 

She offered a suggestion to what they were going to do from here on out, looking over at John for confirmation but looking at his face, she could tell he hadn’t heard her, “John?”

 

“What do you plan on doing now?” Was what John’s dad finally said after all of the encouragements and hugging was done and over with, echoing her earlier question. Some of the people around them listened in, either overtly or discreetly, while others, mainly those with children, were busy trying to keep said children entertained.

 

“Stop the storm, somehow, and then go help more people.” Jane blinked at John’s response. That was different than what he’d said not too long ago.

 

However much time had actually passed.

 

“I thought we were going to try to regroup with the others first?” John gave her this long, steady look before shaking his head.

 

“That was the plan,” He agreed before continuing, “But on the way here I’ve been sensing more with the wind, trying to do more from where I was at. I… I have to stop this now. I mean, who knows how long this shitty storm could go on for, if I just let it be, right?” He attempted a smile, but Jane could clearly see the effort behind it.

 

She huffed before nodding in agreement, shifting so that she could do a quick head count of the people around them, before asking John for a second time, “What’s the plan now, if you've changed it? Windy thing to make it disperse?”

 

He shook his head again, as if to clear it of some train of thought, before giving her another smile and both of their dads a hug and shooting off of the roof like a rocket blasting off into space. Some of the kids were distracted by this, either finding it fascinating or just momentarily interesting. The parents, she could see confusion on some of their faces and childlike awe in others.

 

The dogs barked or yelped in surprise at the rush of air John left in his wake except for one. It was one of the dogs they’d just found paddling through the water, no collar, looked young like a puppy, and looking entirely too skinny for Jane’s liking. She’d pointed it out to John, who helped her pick the poor thing up and dry it, her, off.

 

She was now on the edge of the roof, barking up at where John had left, before whimpering and whining all the way up into Jane’s arms.

 

“I know,” They’d yet to give her a name, in case they found her owner, “He’ll be back soon though. I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk and Roxy are not having the best time. Dirk only recently woke up after everyone else had. Just his luck, right? And Roxy? Well, these past two days had led up to some kind of family drama time bomb going off and that's all there really is to say on the matter.

**Dirk**

 

Dirk was confused when he woke up.

 

News reports were already coming in about the storm raging over the part of Washington when Dirk came to. He blinked his eyes furiously, shaking his head to wake up, and got a good look at his surroundings.

 

He was back in the living room of his apartment. Everything looked different, and not so much in a good way. Sawtooth and Squarewave weren’t around. His turntables had a twin sitting next to them. Dave wa there too. He was sitting on the other side of the couch where he’d apparently passed out at.

 

With the little exception being that Dirk did not once remember ever being in his apartment.

 

“What the fuck is going on?” Was the first thing he thought to say, wincing at how stiff and sore he was just trying to sit up properly.

 

Dave tilted his head, sitting far too rigidly to be comfortable, “Woke up a few minutes ago. The tv was on the news. There’s a storm over John and Jane’s that’s been going on for the better part of two days now and shows no sign of letting up. Meanwhile. Houston has a summer heat wave as per fucking usual. Like you could cook an egg here and take a shower over there and I haven’t heard a peep out of Rose or Jade yet. Safe to say I think that nothing bad is going on with them but maybe it just hasn’t been a big enough deal yet. To the media. To us it’ll always be a big deal.”

 

Dirk took a moment to process all of that while he stretched, “Yeah. It will. Any plan to get our asses over there, assuming we can still fly?”

 

“No. Sorry. We can fly though. That’s a thing. Waiting for Jade and Rose so we have a plan. Can’t go in without a plan lest we just get rained on like this parade ain’t taking off sorry guys I know you worked really hard on those floats but we’re going to have to reschedule and also the floats are ruined. Just like our clothes will be because we don’t have our sweet tier pajamas. And also the trolls are missing or something. That’s a thing. Did I mention that?”

 

“No. But we will find a way to get our friends out of the storm or stop it. Hell, maybe they’ll get themselves out and be perfectly fine-“

 

Dirk didn’t get to finish his poor attempts at reassurances, if that was even what Dave needed right now, before the jingling of keys could be heard on the other side of the door and then Dave was just gone.

 

There one second. Not there the next and only a breeze to tell Dirk he’d flash stepped somewhere.

 

Maybe to his room?

 

The question now was, should Dirk follow him, or stay out here to see who was going to enter their apartment?

 

There must’ve been a reason for Dave absconding so quickly, and from the conclusions that were immediately firing off in his mind, Dirk was not going to like the reasons why.

 

Dirk readied himself for whatever may come his way, because even though he didn’t recognize the voice behind the still closed door, it was only because of the muttering and muffled cursing, surely. Surely he’d recognize his own voice, deeper or older or however it went. And if it wasn’t Dave’s bro?

 

The door swung open with a small cheer from the person who’d tried three times, by his count, to get it open. That cheer died a quick and painless death however when said person finally registered that there was a person already in the apartment.

 

It wasn’t Dave’s bro, then. Good. But that meant there was only one other option left.

 

Alternate Dave didn’t really look too different from what Dirk had seen in old internet images and how the Dave he knows looks now. He was taller for sure though, and had his hair done in a similar style. He wore the same kind of shades too. The big thing that stood out was the outfit he was wearing. It was an absolutely ridiculous looking suit. He took one look at Dirk, arms carrying multiple bags of groceries, and within a few seconds they were all on the floor as Dirk’s bro just dropped to his knees. Right there in the doorway.

 

“Dirk?” Dirk nodded his head, not sure how else to respond. Should he go to him? Hug him? Just sit there and wait for his bro to move first? Should he go and check on Dave to tell him everything was alright first?

 

The alternate Dave let out a breathy little laugh through a grin that Dirk thought would split his face in two. Dirk tried mimicking the expression. He felt much like a balloon, bouncing up off the couch and staying mere centimeters off the ground as he floated over to his ancestor.

 

“You’re real.” Another whispered statement fell from the older Dave’s tongue as he tugged his arms loose from the grocery bags and lifted them to hold either side of Dirk’s face, “You’re alive.”

 

Something in his Heart twinged in time with his throat closing up and his mouth going dry.

 

“Yeah.” He swallowed, internally wincing at his voice, “I’m here.” A question drifted through his head. Bro, or dad? To trolls it hadn’t mattered. In the future it hadn’t mattered. He stuck with brother because it was easy, it was simple, and Roxy had already been calling the alternate Rose, mom.

 

But now his mind wouldn’t shut up about it, so he did what he was used to doing and shoved it out of his mind for awhile until he could properly deal with it, “I’m here, and there’s someone else that I’d like you to meet.”

 

The alternate Dave blinked a few times, processing what Dirk had just said, “Okay. Is it Roxy?”

 

An expected question, all things considered, but Dirk had to shake his head.

 

“No. He’s.. ah, he left for his room right as you were opening the door. I should go tell him it’s okay, y’know, let him see that no one’s come around just to try and kill us.”

 

What Dirk didn’t expect was for his bro to take that throwaway comment seriously, “That’s happened to you before?”

 

Dirk moved to pick up the dropped groceries as he thought up an answer. No, it hadn’t happened to him. Not really. Not unless you counted the drones that the Condense had sent on the regular. As for Dave, though? He wasn’t sure. He’d venture to guess that it hadn’t ever happened to him either, unless you count his own alternate and the entire fuck up that was that splinter of himself.

 

As soon as he meets the guy he’s going to-

 

“Dirk?” Oh. He’d set down some cans of soup a little too harshly onto the counter. He shook his head, leaning over to rest his head on his arms and just stand there like that as he replied.

 

“No, not to me at least. Unless you count robots? But they’re not people, so… I’d still count that as a no. But. For Dave? Uh, yeah that’s his name. For Dave though, I’m not sure. It depends on whether you immediately thought the person in question had to be a stranger or not, ‘s my guess. You’d have to ask him for more details on that, sorry, unless he directs you back to me.”

 

The next thing Dirk knew, was that he wasn’t leaning on the kitchen counter anymore and that his bro was hugging him.

  
  


**Roxy**

 

Roxy wished that her excitement upon waking up could’ve lasted a little longer.

 

There was a Lalonde family meeting being held in the living room. That was a nice surprise in and of itself for Roxy, who up until recently had no one but her friends, and even after that only had Rose who shared her surname. Now there was Rose as well as an older woman maybe in her late twenties who looked like Rose, and a woman who was maybe the same age who looked a lot like herself. Roxy wasn’t sure about the ages though.

 

Rose was sitting right beside her, all up in her personal bubble which Roxy thought was great. She’d be hugging the seer if it weren’t for whatever serious business that was going down or about to go down. Possibly in the near future, even. Had Rose seen anything?

 

The disheartening thing to see what how both of their moms were arguing in the kitchen now instead of having that meeting that was called. Roxy’s mom had taken one look at the state that Rose’s mom was in and how she had a full wine glass in hand before snatching it away and storming toward the kitchen.

 

Roxy knew these women were the other versions of themselves. She knew and yet she still found it hard to believe as Rose glued to her side in a way that kicked something in Roxy to hug her mother-daughter and give her what comfort she could.

 

“We just got our daughters back and you-”

 

“Celebrating and am happy we didn’t all stay dead?”

 

“Well yes of course but there are other ways to do that than get passed out drunk before it’s even noon!”

 

“Hey! I bet you, I bet you did, drank, too! I bet you’d be no betta, better, than this if you knew the world was ending.”

 

“Not-”

 

“I’m not blind. This is your house, not mine. You had a whole wine rack and then some stashed away in here and most of it was gone.”

 

Roxy could only look down at her unoccupied hand in what felt distantly like shame. Yes, she’d accomplished a lot, and yes, she’d beaten her alcoholism to a pulp, but that she had gone down that path in the first place, the way her older self was putting it, made it sound wholly different than when she’d first made the decision. Even more so when her friends had found out after throwing out most of the wine and getting the bright idea to just empty the rest and use the bottles for target practice.

 

“Don’t you bring my daughter into this,” Roxy’s mom snarled.

 

Which only made the feeling within her burn. She knew what the rest of the house must look like. Run down, paint starting to chip off at the edges and corners, fading after so long exposed to the salt sea air. There was graffiti on the walls, usually in short messages, but those thankfully stayed to the outer walls. Nothing on the inside had been vandalized.

 

Still, though.

 

“I never sad, said, anything a, a boat her. Must’ve been hard though, huh? Sneaky lil genius finds her way into yore lil cellar and drains you dry. Wonder how you felt. Wonder what you did.”

 

There was a long pause where Rose’s mom saw fit to not say anything at all, waiting for Roxy’s mom to speak up again. In time she did, but when she did, her voice cracked.

 

“I wasn’t there.”

 

Roxy was distinctly aware of Rose being right there, her head whipping back and forth between her and the kitchen where they couldn’t quite see their guardians, or the one who should’ve been a guardian in Roxy’s case.

 

Rose returned the hug, finally. Her grip was tight.

 

“She’s never been like this before.”

 

“No?” Roxy whispered back close to her ear so it could be heard over their moms, “What was she… what was I usually like?”

 

“She’s not you,” Rose’s tone was sharp and her words were as quick as her wit, “Not now, not anymore, and if John’s to be believed, not ever. You just share the same DNA, like twins. But… she was usually one to cry and be sad a lot, when she drank. Or maybe she drank because she was sad. I… never really asked.”

 

Roxy winced, “Maybe later when she isn’t drunk would be a good time to ask?” She suggested hopefully before her alternate self busted open a can of worms.

 

“A son, too.”

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

They both hardly dared to breathe. Roxy once again hoped, but this time it was so that she hadn’t heard what she thought she’d heard.

 

“I have a son, too. Never got to meet him, though.” Rose beside her tensed up like a coiled spring, her hands that were gripping Roxy’s shirt balling into fists, before releasing their grip entirely in favor of helping her off the couch to stand.

 

“You knew?!”

 

There was no reply.

 

“You knew about my brother, about Dave, and didn’t tell me?”

 

Both of their mothers rounded the archway leading to the kitchen. Rose’s mom was looking everywhere but at her daughter, while Roxy’s was looking between her and the kids.

 

“I knew of him, yes. I didn’t tell you because your father would hardly let me see him while you two were still babies, and that stopped altogether after you both turned three.”

 

Roxy grimaced, “Well, that’s a pretty shitty explanation if you ask me. You didn’t tell her because you hardly knew anything yourself. At least you could’ve told her that she had a brother out there somewhere.” This whole morning had been talking around each other, and yesterday had been busy just trying to get everything in the house in order. Mainly the situation of food, even with Roxy ready and willing to pop some into existence. Apparently neither of their mothers wanted her to expend energy or effort on something that could be gotten easily through other means.

 

“You wouldn’t have done the same?” Was what her older self asked, not denying anything.

 

“Uh. No? Because despite us sharing the same DNA, we aren’t the same people.  _ I _ would have told her  _ something _ , at least.  _ I _ would have loved  _ nothing _ more than to find out that I had other family out there in the world. Fuck, I would have loved just to know that others besides me and Dirk had survived the end of the world.” Roxy let that last statement hang in the air for a while, eyes never leaving the alternate version of herself, before adding, “I’m not saying she shouldn’t forgive you for your mistakes, but that’s her choice to make. Not mine.”

 

Roxy’s older self hung her head. Roxy was just glad that Rose hadn’t moved much besides fidgeting during the whole exchange.

 

“Why don’t you go take a nap?” Alternate Rose suggested, “Sleep off the alcohol.” Or, maybe it wasn’t a suggestion, so much as a carefully worded command. Rose’s mom mumbled something that Roxy couldn’t quite catch, but turned and left for the stairs all the same. When she was out of sight, Roxy’s mom piped up again, “Now, who wants lunch?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Jake again.
> 
> Jane goes looking for John. Jade finds him. Jake has some inner reflection and leaves John with Jane and Jade for a bit.

Jane

 

Jane had at first decided to wait patiently. She helped her dad and John’s dad, who were really her sons genetically speaking but no one was going to be addressing that anytime soon if they could help it, set up temporary structures to keep out the rain. Those who either couldn’t or didn’t want to wait were let down carefully into the house they stood on through the third story window, while the rest stuck around to help out. Even when the storm was gone, she reasoned, something like this may be needed in the aftermath, for those that didn’t follow her and John.

 

If people complained about code or zoning violations they could, in her dad’s words, eat her hat.

 

If she was the type to regularly wear a hat. Maybe glasses would do instead? Either way, it didn’t really matter what other people in the part of the state not affected by any of this, or other parts of the country thought. Some she thought might even cheer her on.

 

Her patience would no doubt run out eventually, though, and it seemed to drain all the faster by the minute. She was constantly looking up at the sky, seeing the rain letting up but the clouds not parting. Seeing the wind practically die and for a second, Jane thought the worst had happened.

 

That had been moments before the whole sky lit up blue and then stayed that way because the storm clouds were  _ gone _ . 

 

She didn’t see John anywhere for the next few seconds. She started counting them off in her head while those around her cheered. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Was he too tired to teleport back? Twenty. Half a minute. Had something happened to him?

 

She reached for that life sight that had, thankfully, had worn off once they’d reached this house, and threw it out as far as she could manage.

 

Forty seconds. Nothing yet. He could be in another part of the state too far for her to reach.

 

Fifty. He could be where the center of the storm had once been. Hadn’t he said that the storm would’ve covered the entire state if the mountains weren’t in the way? Wasn’t the center somewhere off the coast, out at sea?

 

A minute. Still nothing, and Jane only realized she had gone rigid once her father’s hand planted itself on her shoulder.

 

“Go after him,” The statement caught her by surprise, “We’ll be fine here.”

 

“Are you sure-” The maid didn’t get to finish her question, her father repeating they’d be fine here, just go find John.

 

She took  off with a running start off the roof in response.

 

It took several minutes for her to get to the coast, eyes burning from her life sight but she didn’t dare turn it off now. John was tough, he was clever, he could easily just be waiting to get some strength back in him and her worry wasn’t needed, but still something nagged at her. Her mind was putting pieces together of a puzzle that might not even be there. John could have underestimated the strength of the storm, or overestimated his own abilities now that they were in a completely different environment. His breath-portation could be weaker, or work with a more strict set of rules than they had in the Game.

 

Overthinking things weren’t helping. Jane had a son-grandpa-grandson to track down.

 

A flash of green beside her had her veer off course, spinning around and growing a little dizzy before righting herself again and seeing who it was.

 

“Hi Jane!” Jade floated there alongside Jake, who waved as she did but less enthusiastically, “What’re you doing all the way out… oh wow. That’s a lot of water.”

 

“Well, There was this huge storm, John went to stop it, and now I’m trying to figure out where he’s at now. Do you mind helping out?” Jane’s voice trailed off as she took in what she was sensing from the two of them.

 

Jake’s life was a pale golden color that bordered on white when nearer to his flame, and more goldenrod the further from the rivers it was. Instead of drifting off of him like fog or mist, it radiated from his skin and saturated the colors around him. Jade’s, in contrast, was glowing green like something radioactive, and the space around her was distorted by arcs of what looks like electricity, or maybe solar flares before shooting off and away from her.

 

“Of course we’ll help out. I’ll be right back with him in tow!” Was Jade’s response before her life crackled, the arcs ceasing before all of her started glowing brighter to the point where she could hardly see anything but green. In the next second it twisted, expanding and Jane thought she could see through Jade, before the witch zapped away.

 

Jane couldn’t help making a face as the distinct taste of lime was left behind in her wake.

 

Jake’s face was all scrunched up as hers was, so maybe she wasn’t the only one to be experiencing it.

 

“Golly Jane, what is that I’m tasting in my mouth? Ah, it’s positively sour.”

 

Jane nearly felt like slapping herself because of course he wouldn’t know what lime tasted like, “That’s lime. It’s supposed to taste like that.”

 

“Well alright then.”

And now there was an awkwardness hanging in the air. Jane was sure that Roxy would go on some tangent about it. Something to do with turtles, maybe. Over the months and years the maid had known her, Roxy always seemed to relate things to water, or aquatic creatures and things if not something inappropriate. Maybe that had something to do with her being surrounded by it, was the answering thought that hit her before Jake clear his throat.

 

“So. What have you been up too?”

 

Oh thank goodness. She’d been worried for a second there that Jake would just ‘Nope’ on out of there instead of talking to her. Even if they didn’t talk about anything serious, just something would be nice.

 

“A huge storm passed through, no, that’s obvious. Um, we’ve helped some people, and a few dogs too.”

 

Jake looked down and around at the flooded areas and the damage that had been done. He cringed at the sight of it, before glancing back up at her with a weak smile.

 

“It’s great that you’ve helped those people. Do you think we might be able to, oh I don’t know, like, help them out more? We could get shelters set up over where the roofs of those houses used to be, see, or, I mean, if that can’t happen then mine and Jade’s island could maybe work out if we get places closed off from the creatures roaming about.”

 

He offered up a couple of great suggestions, one of which she’d thought of herself, but it’d only been on the small scale for the group of people she’d been helping at the time. She turned to the two and three story houses around, imagining for a minute what they’d look like with extra rooms and shelters built up on top, with boats coming and going should the water decide it was happy enough where it was.

 

Jade came back before she could communicate all this to Jake, the taste of mint and lime accompanying her. Jane blinked shaking her head and knew even without seeing that she had John in tow.

 

“Guys he’s hurt what do we do? Do we take him to a hospital, no, Janey use your lifey thing on him.” Jane only had to take one look at the state that John was in, before moving over to Jade’s side before she’d even finished her train of thought. Seeing John now was different from how he’d been what had to be only a minute or two ago. It had to be. Then, his life had been calm, rolling off him like gentle waves and mist. Now? Now it writhed and rose in columns around the places where he was most hurt like smoke from a fire and heat off a road. Now it was hard to see, where as before it’d been clear.

 

Jane’s face twisted as if to sneeze instinctively, especially when some of it rose up into her face as she neared. Jade had him held bridal style, careful with moving him so as to not aggravate anything.

 

He looked like he’d gotten electrocuted, which, well, she should’ve recognized this as a possibility. At least he wa still breathing. Who even knew if her revive once and then sorry no more chances even was a thing that stuck around? Maybe it’d changed to a number of times, or maybe it was dependent on the amount of energy she could dredge up. Or, more depressingly, maybe that ability was now gone for good.

 

Jane couldn’t allow herself to dwell on that with John right there needing her help.

 

Summoning up her healing when she already had one lifey thing going on was hard. And by hard, Jane meant that she had to turn off her sight, which was a bit easier to do now that she’d done it once, in order to start on her task. Even without her sight it was easy, this time, to tell what needed to be healed. It did help her know that at least the injuries hadn’t gone too deep or scarred so much that he might as well need a hospital even when she’d done all that she could accomplish, though.

 

And so Jane, hands and life visibly glowing now, set one hand on a passed out John’s forehead and the other over his heart, and set to work.

  
  


Jake

 

Jake did feel awkward even after asking that initial question. He hadn’t seen Jane in a couple of days, and to find her dealing with all of this, it was hard for him to not feel like he was bothering her somehow. It was also hard, he supposed, to not feel some shade of helpless, as he watched Jane work her healing magicks over a John that looked like his lost a fight with a lightning rod.

 

All things considered he could be in worse condition but that wasn’t the case, nor was it very helpful, so he threw that thought out to sea where it belonged.

 

When he’d first woken up he’d had to carry his dead Nanna back to his house that was now Jade’s as well. He couldn’t forget that. Her greenhouse and the room she had next to his was proof enough of it. Though her telling him that she too had to deal with her dead version of him, her grandpa, had put a dampener on the mood for a few hours.

 

She’d just come back from scouting out the island, was what she said, and relayed to him how it felt harder to get her powers to work. Sure, when she did it was with the same control and efficiency as she had always had over them, but the effort to get there seemed exponentially greater the larger the task she was attempting to accomplish. It was also hard to do more than one thing, relatively, at a time. Holding the planets she’d somehow transported along with her, all eight of theirs plus his Earth, somehow even though this is also his Earth, in an orbit around something was easy. They were already small, so that took almost no effort as well. But attempting to hold them in orbit while also altering the size of a thing or teleporting her and them to another location while changing size or something? That was a big order to fill.

 

She said, over some hours of trying to go about doing what they normally would and failing because of the other person’s presence and talking to clear the air, that she’d been planning on using his planet as the one that they would, well, occupy. The one that she would have Jane and Roxy help populate with animals and the creatures of his island for what would be the resurrected troll race. She’d told him all about how she wanted to see if the landmasses that would form would be similar or completely different from those of the versions of Earth that they both know.

 

And yet somehow, when they arrived, there was already  _ that _ waiting for them.

 

It left a sense of unease to settle in his gut.

 

To Jade now he almost asked if there was anything around here that he could do, but before the words had left his tongue he knew there already was some ongoing problem to fix and it laid directly below them.

  
He had spent so much of his childhood helpless, hopeless, scared and yet restless. He didn’t want anyone to feel like that. And though he was scared now, thinking he might be going around and making a fool out of himself while trying his best to help someone out, he resolved to not let it get the better of him. Half of his problems with his friends were because of poor communication skills and coming off as a jerk because of it, directly or otherwise. The other half of his problems stemmed from not standing his ground and facing his other problems head on like he had always dreamed of being able to do one day. Hoped without really hoping that he could.   
  
But now he Hoped. Now he Believed that the people down there would be okay, through everything they’re going through now. He refused to Doubt himself or the choice he was about to make because this was, in some form of irony, not a Game. There were other people’s lives that he could make better, for as much as he liked being alone, he didn’t like to think of someone hurting.   
  
Heroes in his movies showed up late sometimes, but in those cases it was better late than never.   
  
In this case? Jake shook his head minutely, hands balling up into fists as he reoriented himself toward the rivers of water more, so his neck wouldn’t hurt and so he could fly down there faster. In this case it was almost like battling the green men again. One misstep and he might not be able to dodge a blow from one. One second too late and-   
  
It was like his Nanna all over again, too, in that respect.   
  
He’d felt hopelessness, hiding away from the monsters on his island unless he had to venture out, after she’d died. If it meant that no one down there would feel it then he would brave them and brave his shortcomings as a person and even stare down the personification of Death, there to take a person he’d claimed, and tell it no, not this one, not today. This would be his Choice, and would have been, had he ever the chance to meet his denizen.   
  
The affect it was having on him, as his image blurred and vanished with speed thought gifted only to Striders, was there all the same.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ==> Dirk: try to be helpful
> 
> ==> Roxy: Lets get this show on the road
> 
>  
> 
> Wait... what do you mean 'Side A'? There's another side to this Disk? This isn't already Side A?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE!

Dirk

He’d tried to go and help with the groceries while half-assing an explanation for a comment he hadn’t intended at all to be taken as fact. And now he was being hugged? What the fuck?

Dirk squirmed out of his bro’s hold and stared at the guy like he was accomplishing some olympic level math in his head, “I’ll… just go get Dave, then.” And he flash-steps without really thinking about it. One step he was standing in the kitchen, and the next he was down the hall and to the left, right at Dave’s door. His own had been moved to across the hall, and a third had been added a ways down from there, the door being right in the middle of the hallway.

“Dave?” He stood, rigidly, at the door and rapped his knuckles against the aging, faded paint. Maybe he’d ask his bro and they could make a show of it, cleaning this whole disaster up before selling it off or just move out or however that’s supposed to work. Maybe he should actually read up on it since the internet isn’t full of holes and half rotten by humanity’s decaying carcass.

There wasn’t an answer, at first, but he didn’t expect there to be. So he waited there, idly tapping out a tune on the door. He wasn’t sure if he should be quiet and patient, or just barge right on in. What would his Scratch have done, so that he could do the opposite? If it was a mixture of both, well, it wouldn’t surprsie Dirk in the least. Unpredictable was a thing he could most definitely be, from what he could parse of Dave’s rant about the guy.

So, quiet tapping and being patient it was, until he heard something click, and the door opened a crack.

One red eye stared at him through it.

“It’s not your bro.” Was the first thing out of Dirk’s mouth, “It’s.. mine. He’s good. He’s putting away food, I think.”

Dave’s eye widened, and Dirk did a double take on why he was without his shades, before the eye vanished for a minute. When that time was up, not that Dirk was counting, the door opened wider with Dave standing there, shades on, and stance even more rigid than his own. It looked uncomfortable.

Dirk let himself visibly relax some only to tense up again as Dave flash-stepped around him and down the hall with a warning on his tongue.

“Don’t open the fridge-!”

It came seconds too late. Dirk had been right on Dave’s heels in time to see what was going on. His bro had deftly dodged out of the way in time, it seemed, to avoid a pile of shitty looking swords that came tumbling out of the fridge. There was a long beat of silence, as the older Dave looked between the pile on the floor, the swords and shuriken in the sink that Dirk hadn’t noticed before, the short swords and lone kunai in the freezer, and the two of them.

Not to mention the other swords and puppets that were just, lying around in the living room that he’d probably been taking note of before then.

Specifically Dave the younger.

“You…” Whatever Dirk’s bro was going to say died, and he was left scrambling for words, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Dave balled his hands into fists.

“What about me?” It probably came out harsher than Dave had meant it. No, definitely had, since he ducked his head an inch and set his mouth into a careful line. Smoothed out lines and relaxed eyebrows. Emotionless, if not for the eyes hidden mostly by his shades.

Those eyes showed only regret and fear, at the moment.

Dirk wouldn’t stand for it.

“He just wants to know if you’d mind helping clear all this shit out. Or, at least maybe point out if there’s anything else we should go through. Also he wants to know what you’d like for lunch. Or dinner. What time is it anyway?” This last question he aims at his bro, but it’s Dave to automatically answers.

“5:45.” Was the response spoken through a tightly held jaw, “5:46 and three seconds.”

“Thank you, Dave.” Ouch. Was this some sort of Time aspect deal?

Dave still didn’t relax though as he adds, “There’s smuppets in the closet. Traps hidden down the hall. Best to just flash-step through them. I don’t know about my bro’s room, though.”

Dirk felt like apologizing profusely for his bro’s actions. Again. But what good would that realistically do? None, probably. And the more he did it the more it would annoy Dave and sound insincere.

Best to just flash-step into the hall and…

Woah!

“DIRK!” Older Dave and Younger Dave called out in a perfect unison as you dropped and rolled under a katana aimed at Dirk’s head and began a rap as he called out his own katana to deflect more weapons, cut through trip wires that the noble god didn’t Know were there but Felt they were, that it was something he himself would do, and found strings cut every single time. He spun on a foot to avoid a mountain of smuppets being dropped on him from some hidden compartment in the ceiling.

All in all, Dirk felt his hallway venture was pretty successful. He could have done more with his sylladex, mind, and his katana was being all weird and glowy and having strange ass runes along the blade, but that was whatever. He found he hadn’t needed anything else and had just kept rapping for the fun of it.

Now he just had to make it back across the hall whilst resisting the urge to somehow light all the puppets in the apartment on fire because even though he liked puppets, Dave certainly did not, would not, and there was no way in hell that Dirk wanted to having anything around to connect himself to his fucked up splinter.

He doesn’t flash-step back across like he could have. His bro’s expression, having lifted up his shades into his hair while Dirk wasn’t looking, was one of awe and shock. Dave’s was still blank, however.

Hm, “Hey. Dave. You got anything around here to light a fire? I was thinking maybe we could round up all the puppets, find a place like an empty lot or somewhere where there won’t be people, and burn ‘em all up in a pile.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Okay, that had gotten a reaction, though Dirk didn’t know yet what kind, “Or, well, we’ll do whatever you want with ‘em, but that’s just the first thing that came to mind. I… don’t know yet what we could do about the swords that won’t bring unnecessary and unwanted attention down on us but I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

The alternate Dave had been pretty silent up until now, but when it looked like he was about to speak, the door slid open and Dave vanished down the hall again.

Dirk didn’t blame him one bit. Even he was getting tense yet again just from seeing his other self standing there, expression completely unreadable. It was unnerving. He, was unnerving. He was also completely silent, too. Hadn’t spoken a word even to ask whom the fuck they were, or why the fuck they were in his apartment.

Every movement, Dirk cataloged in his head.

He wouldn’t, as he previously thought, go straight for this guy’s jugular, but that didn’t mean he would just let him anywhere within a hundred feet of Dave, either.

“Care to explain why your apartment smells like a pile of rotten dog shit?”

Roxy

Rose had said she wasn’t feeling very hungry, yet agreed that yes, lunch would be fine, thank you, in this quiet voice that seemed so unlike her. Roxy herself had been about to say that she wasn’t hungry at all, but would gladly help prepare lunch, until her stomach decided now was a great time to protest the lack of food she’s had in… awhile. It had been before John’s whole Retconning mission, and even then she only remembers snacking, not having enough to really settle the rumbles it’d make over what must be night because she was tired and attempting sleep.

No, it was further back than even that. Before the Derse dungeon, before the whole business of dying and going God Tier, even. Oh man, had dying and coming back to life been what had been keeping her up and going this whole time? Had she just been surviving and off whatever energies of the thing that had killed her? And only now was it petering out because there was just not enough left to convert into energy her body could actually use to function?!

Another loud gurgling rumble closely followed the first, prompting both Rose and Mom Rose to stare at her in what Roxy interpreted as dawning horror. Or maybe it was just surprise? She was bad with facial expressions, please forgive. Dirk and the Carapacians were not the best when it came to that area of communication that’s for sure.

Though Dirk was certainly making an effort, last she knew.

Mom Rose’s face quickly set into something Roxy couldn’t decipher, before she pointed to Roxy with an index finger, “I don’t want to hear, “I’m not hungry”, out of you. You are eating.”

And that was that, apparently.

Wow, her mom could be wicked scary and oddly comforting all at the same time. Was her alternate ever like that with Rose, before she lost herself in drinking her life and time away? Was there ever a point in Rose’s life in which the alternate Ro-lal Extraordinaire had not been some flavor of drunk?

Roxy decided to channel some of Jake’s crazy hope powers and believe that hadn’t been the case, because that alternative spun some, if only slightly, darker narratives in her mind that she was not about to entertain. She was the Lalonde child who should have the shitty childhood, not Rose. Rose, and indeed none of her friends and family, deserve that. Not even Dirk who shared like, half of her backstory just on principle, deserved that.

Lunch turned out to be sandwiches and soup. Mom Rose had specifically chosen ones that were light, whatever that meant, yet filling. She didn’t ask Roxy when it was she’d last eaten. Maybe she already knew. Maybe she just didn’t want to find out that Roxy herself didn’t truly know.

Roxy tore into the food on her plate like a ravenous wolf and it was winter. Rose ate some, a full sandwich, before stopping.

“We need to get to the Striders.”

This came out of the blue, causing Roxy and Mom Rose to really look at Rose the Younger for a long moment of silence.

“You’ve seen something haven’t you?” Roxy’s mom asked in a tone that was more statement than question.

Rose simply repeated the sentence through gritted teeth while nodding her head. Roxy could see her needle wands manifest in her grip, orange yellow in color and glowing. They were decorated with a pale gold, lines that made them appear as unicorn horns, carved and etched with miniature suns and swirling designs around each section. They hummed a low reverberating tone.

Roxy itched to summon her rifle, but held back. She turned to her mom, who gave her a look that offered no argument and waved her off, “I’ll take care of things here. Hold down the fort. We can talk more after you get back.”

There was a long pause in which Roxy and her mom stared at each other with some sort of wordless conversation, before Roxy nodded her head and grabbed a hold of one of Rose’s wrists. Roxy takes a moment to center herself, breathing in slow, and letting it out. Think of that blank, white nothingness that LOWAS had once been in. Breathe again, and think of what she had done to save Rose in the Doomed Timeline from being vaporized. Breathe again. A blank page yet to be written on. Moving the absence of space filled up from here to there. The sound of ringing silence in ones ears when there isn’t background noise to drown it out. Think of the Void as a door..

Rose inhaled, though Roxy didn’t open her eyes to see. Not this time. She had only done this before on instinct, and now she had to do it purposefully. They might be standing on something, or they might be floating. She almost couldn't tell. She was so focused on her aspect that she could hardly feel anything, but the ringing in her ears and the lack of any other background noise at all told her exactly where they were now.

One step down, then. Now another.

She’s glad, that at least from her perspective, she and John hadn’t stayed here for very long. With the lack of other sounds, she could hear everything internal going on in her body. Her heartbeat and breathing sounded unusually loud.

Another step, Roxy. C’mon, she did it once and she will do it again.

Why hadn’t she practiced this in the last few days?

Breathe in, this is the Void, this is a blank page begging to be written on. Breathe out, Roxy is that writer. She is the Stealer of Nothing, the gal who can create by taking the concept of nonexistence away from it.

And so now she just has to reach out and steal the idea of her and Rose not being in Dirk’s, and Dave’s apartment, out of the Void, and slot the one of them being at their house neatly in its place.

She almost doesn’t feel the subtle, watery feel of it this time, too. But no. She does notice. She notes this as she opens her eyes to a wholly unfamiliar place, and tiredly jots down in her mind that Rose’s reaction to this sort of thing is probably one of the better ones she’ll get with passengers.

She had done it though, by the sounds and the sight before her, as strange as it was to see.

She’s never known Dirk to be especially dirty. Messy, to a point, but never dirty. In fact she might have even called him a compulsive cleaner or something once before. Admittedly that was probably something that drunk her had thought was either funny or true but she had never seen him or what she could see of his apartment, in and out of the game, not clean.

This was not Dirk’s apartment, and yet it had signs of him everywhere.

Despite him and his older self both being Right There along with The Famous and Infamous David Strider and oh my God she could probably die happy right now.

Or… maybe not. Let’s not do that, thanks.

Rose had her needle wands up and ready in an instant as the older Dave and older Dirk both sized each other up, or something. They might be checking each other out behind their shades, as weird as that would be, for all Roxy knew.

Her and Rose’s arrival interrupts this in a spectacular way, in that before the older Dirk moved, Rose was right there in front of him with a wand aimed inches from his chest.

Roxy… didn’t think she’d ever seen Rose make that kind of expression. Not even when they were fighting McWaterBitch herself.

What did this alt Di-Stri even do to warrant this kind of reaction?

“Rose? Please stand back.” Older Dave spoke in a low tone.

Rose didn’t budge an inch and Older Dirk met her withering glare of death with a blank, neutral expression.

“Rose?” It was Dirk who spoke now, “Maybe taking a step or two back would be better for whatever spell you’re going to cast, here. Better chance of knocking him into or through a wall.”

This actually gets to her, though she raises both wands now, even while standing back and away from Dave’s bro at an angle, closer to Dirk and the hallway.

“Where’s Davey?” Roxy has to ask. Surely he was around here somewhere right? And if Dirk and Rose both thought that letting Dirk’s other self near him was a bad idea for all involved…

Dirk shrugs, though the grip on his sword that resonated with Heart Magicks tightened. Rose’s wands grow brighter at their tips. Alternate Dave’s mouth sets into a thin line.

“You got an answer for me? I ain’t got all day to stand here and contemplate life, y’know. I asked ya why the apartment looked and smelled like a dino shit in it. Oh, and why were there weapons and puppets in places where there should be food? Do you just not give a shit about what kind of environment you live in? Is it deliberate? Or did you just not give a single flying fuck about what sort of environment your son grew up in?”

> TO VIEW THIS STORY IN WHAT MOST CLOSELY PASSES FOR CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER, PLEASE FLIP DISK TO SIDE A


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ==> Proceed with Side A

Karkat

“Of all the grubshitting, nook-fondling, horrorterror screech inducing things to have happened. THIS. This is what I’m Saddled With.”

“Karkat,” A bored voice chimed in, “You really shouldn’t pace like that least you wear a hole into the carpet, and could you please stop mumbling to yourself like that? It is quite rude you know as I can quite clearly tell who you are talking about, being myself, and yet you don’t even have the decency to discuss what is troubling you so face to face with me-”

“Oh my *god* Kankri. Shut your squawk blister for one goddamn minute and *think*. Do you even have the faintest iota of an idea in that pan of yours of the kind of *situation* we’re both in right now? This isn’t Beforus! This isn’t even Alternia! I don’t know *what* kind of potential murder hellhole planet that our sorry roadkill worthy asses are *on* right now, and you’re standing there without any care *at all* for not *only* our predicament, but for those of our *friends* and *session mates* as well?” Karkat turned his pacing in circles into a determined march to stare Kankri dead in the eyes, “The *goddamn motherfucking* Signless is in the other room right now, Kankri. He’s *waiting* for us to go back out there and properly meet him and *you don’t even care*.”

Karkat could swear that Kankri was getting riled up enough to almost raise his own voice, but unfortunately that didn’t happen. However he was taking far too long and couldn’t just suck it up and practice what he preaches and tolerate his post-Scratched self’s presence. He was going to go out there and-

“How come we haven’t seen your Beforan self, as of yet?”

Karkat storms out of the door and slams the button to close it behind him. It didn’t give him as much satisfaction as slamming closed an actual door would, but it was as close as he could get in this weirdly large hive. He walks down one part of a hallway with four doors, stopping at the top of the staircase. He can already see Signless down there, sitting at a small round table with only three chairs. There was a husktop and he was looking in between that and a palmhusk, typing every so often, and taking a sip out of a coffee mug. A dusty, ragged grey cloak was hung over the back of the chair he was casually leaning back in, and he was wearing… some kind of odd clothing. Karkat couldn’t quite tell, but there was some kind of robe instead of a shirt, the pants were rolled up and ruffled around his knees, and there was a rope for a belt tied around his waist.

The robe was silver, the pants were black, the chord was a dull grey-rust red.

Karkat descended the stairs at a slow, carefully silent pace. His ancestor seemed to be busy working on something, and he didn’t quite want to disturb the adult troll from his work. His skin wasn’t pitch black like the Condese’s had been, nor was it the brilliant glowing silver-white of a rainbow drinker, even when the glow itself was turned off. It wasn’t the subtle glowing aura that the god-tiered humans had around them, brighter around their heads like their fabled, mythical angels with their halos. That gave the humans a tinge to their skin of something that just matched them and their aspect. Rose had darkened, burnished gold like a rare, priceless antique as the dawning sun’s rays shone on it. Dave had that shine that his records had, never static, never pausing as it rolls over him, dust particles igniting like fire in the light of an old lantern.

The Signless, as Karkat descends the last stairs, looks like charcoal, like burned wood, a kind of grey that is, noticeably, tinted red around both wrists.

The youngest Vantas suppressed a wince and the urge to flee back upstairs.

He instead bumps into the railing, alerting his ancestor to his being there and oh god what was that look on his face? Was? Was he actually happy to see him?

It was nothing that he could compare with troll culture. Nothing but quadrants came to mind and this clearly isn’t that. No, he could only equate it to human phrases and his own experiences. It was a kind of awe that he had when seeing, no, that was still quadrant related. Damn. It was like way back when he’d first seen Crabdad as a sprite, he supposed would be the closest he could relate it to. It was awe and reddish tears that Signless was refusing to let fall. It was looking at Karkat like he was something worth waiting for and welcoming and being proud of. It was Signless flying, almost, out of his seat and hugging him.

It wasn’t strong. He wasn’t being squeezed. He’d tensed up, but all his ancestor did was lay one hand on the back of his head, and the other at the middle of his back, and okay there was his face? In Karkat’s hair now?

He was very, very confused, and that leaked out into a chitter that he immediately clamped down on. He was too late, though. Signless had heard him. He pulls away and sets his hands on Karkat’s shoulders.

“I know this whole place, this whole,” He gestures vaguely with one of his hands, “situation is confusing. Trust me when I say that it’s been a lot to take in the past several hours. Psiionic has been helping me a lot with the technical stuff. Mom helped me make food.” Oh so that’s what that smell had been earlier, “We are, as far as we can tell, all scattered about this planet, and from what I could hear of your conversation,” Something like mischief shone in his eyes, oh no was he like Egbert, “This “potential murder hellhole planet that our sorry roadkill worthy asses are on right now” is… in terms of geography,” More hand gestures, “the same as both Alternia and Beforus.”

Well, that was something of a small relief. Though him repeating Karkat’s wording was something he never thought would be a thing that happened ever.

Then he frowned and Karkat thinks he had a small panic attack trying to determine why.

“I know I’m not the best cook, just ask Disciple, but I made sure to follow Mom’s recipe exactly.” Karkat didn’t know whether he should bust out laughing or groan. What sort of life had he been dumped into?

Karkat continued to get bits and pieces of an answer throughout the night. After everyone had eaten the food that was melt in your mouth amazing after not having anything for who knows how many hours, or sweeps, he took a look around the hive. There was a storage space leading to the outside where strange, bikes and a large half-oval shaped car were sitting innocently. As if the motorbikes didn’t have four wheels that faced parallel to the ground, or that the large car had them too, in an upgraded size.

The second odd thing he noticed about the place was when a chime rang through the hive and Karkat’s ancestor received an alert on his palmhusk. Someone was trolling him, which he thankfully read aloud.

“ascendedArcheologist: karkat is the 0nly 0ne wh0 sh0uld answer the d00r 0o0.”

“Well that’s not at all ominous.” Karkat rolled his eyes while glancing at the door, “That’s Damara’s ancestor, isn’t it?”

He didn’t turn to see whether the other two Vantases were shocked by that, though Signless did ask, “It’s the tag, isn’t it?”

And as he was walking to the front entrance Kankri just had to pipe up about that, “Karkat, you should know it’s not good to simple assume these things…” Which, after the first part, he simply tuned out until, “...and should we really trust what she says?”

“Fuck you too, Kankri!”

What awaited him when he opened the door wasn’t anything he was expecting. Karkat wasn’t even sure what he was expecting, really. Knowing for certain now that it was the older Aradia who’d said he was the only one who should investigate could mean any number of things, really. It could be something harmless, which was unlikely in Karkat’s mind but still a possibility. It could be something that both Signless and Kankri would have handled poorly, in other timelines, or that their presence with him would mess up somehow.

Somehow, things won’t go horribly wrong if he were the only one to answer. As much as he’s inclined to object, he goes along with it anyway this time.

Outside the door, sunset was in full swing. The sky above them was darkening into a purple hue, stars already visible. The hive that Karkat was in sat on an island, apparently, off the coast, with the nearest settlement being just within sight. Hives all up and down cliffs in bright, warm colors, lanterns throughout the streets lighting them up for all to see. Waves crashed in his ears. The smell of sea salt rushed over him as a wind swept passed him and into his hive.

There was a person there. A troll with one short, sharp chipped horn and one that was naturally curvy of the same height. They were wearing, to Karkat’s shock, cuffs around their wrists and ankles like a prisoner, and wore a predominately grey robe similar to what Signless was wearing. The hood was left down, however, so he could all too clearly see the silver-grey eyes of a young wriggler staring up at him with an expression akin to the one Karkat’s ancestor had given him.

One of awe and disbelief, except now there were traces of what he could only identify as fear there as well.

Feferi

It had been a intersting evening, waking up to all of this. Waking up and meeting Meenah, seeing all of the tide pools that surrounded their hive, and seeing her pre-scratch self.

Well, the latter was only until that high opinion of her changed.

She wasn’t around for very long, but when she was she was… a little much. Even for Feferi. The instant she was in the block, both younger fuchsias knew it and both of them were wondering what the reason could possibly be this time. First it had been because of a wriggler showing up, then it had been about a meal being prepared by said wriggler even though she insisted that they didn’t have to do anything of the sort. All while handcuffed still because apparently the alternate Feferi couldn’t spare the time between dressing herself up and preparing some sort of scouting and diplomatic mission to the nearby coastal town. Something about appealing to them and seeing about why the violetblooded wriggler, Hapalo, was sent here.

“She’s got to be a low violet, more purple in her than anyfin else. Look’it those fins. They’re tiny.”

“She’s also really young, Meenah. Maybe four sweeps at most, if I had to guess.”

The two of them had been trying to fill up the awkward silence with conversation and looking around for something to do. That conversation died down when Hapalo entered the meal block where they’d been eating. She bows politely, arms and legs now free using a key disguised as a pin for her hair.

“Wriggler-” Feferi shot her dancestor with a glare, “Hapalo,” Meenah corrected, “Where’s your lusus?”

Hapalo rose from the bow, though didn’t meet either of their eyes, “When we keepers are chosen to attend the thrones of the pantheon, our lusii are culled by our assigned instructor, who teaches us what we will need to know for our task.”

It sounded rehearsed. Feferi, for one, was horrified by the idea. The implications it brought to her mind...

“You’re sent here for your entire lives?” Hapalo nodded her head, “No matter your caste?”

Here she bites her lip but otherwise doesn’t move or say anything in response. Feferi sits there tense, what’s left of her meal forgotten.

“No matter the color of your blood, or your lifespan.” She elaborates. Hapalo nods once.

As Feferi turns to see Meenahs reaction, her eyes widen as it’s one she doesn’t expect. There’s anger there for all the world to see in her eyes, fists clenched tight and teeth bared.

“That’s hundreds of sweeps! And hundreds of lives for the lowbloods!” Meenah’s gaze locks onto her and leaves her rooted to her seat, “They’re trapped in these hives for their entire lives! They don’t… do you get to leave? At all?”

“...Only during the festivals or holidays of our respective gods or goddesses, Lady Life Stealer.” Was Hapalo’s quiet reply, “We are not to wander off or stray from our duties, m’Lady.”

Oh, titles, great.

“And if you decide to just, forget everything and run?”

“I would never!” The force of the tiny troll’s reply shocks both fuchsias and sends Feferi leaning back in her seat, “It is an honor to serve you! I would never abandon the Throne of Life!”

Feferi rose from her seat with a flourish, sending it sliding back into the wall with a thud. She exits the meal block with a curse from her dancestor ringing in her ears. There was no real destination, but she would like to find somewhere quiet to think.

It was understandable that Meenah would be so upset over this. She’d never wanted to be a ruler, never wanted to be in charge of who knew even how many trolls. She had felt trapped, and so she escaped to the distant satellite moon that was often overshadowed by the much larger and similarly pink one. She’d traded one trapped existence for another, yet had still in a way been able to free herself and her session from that, too.

Hapalo not having that option. Her not even seeing that as an option. It was like a slap in the face.

She walked down a hall that, as she went, seemed to slope downward not unlike the spiralling stairs that would be taken to a lower level filled with water and waterproof furniture, clothing, and other items. However this hallway was one that Meenah and herself had yet to go down. The fuchsia colored candles along the walls grew sparser and at one point, looking out the window, Feferi could see then that this part of the hive was also beneath the waves.

She moved onward still. Something nagged at her to move that she couldn’t explain. It wasn’t the whisperings of Glb’golyb. Her lusus’s voice hadn’t reached her or Meenah in the hours they’d been here, so Feferi could only guess that she was dead or rejoined with the other Horror Terrors in the space between sessions and universes.

The only door she could find was at the end of the hallway, and with it was an number of unlit candles on trays designed like waves and seaspray sitting on a nightstand.

Feferi lit one, after finding a matchbox in the drawer, and opened the door.


End file.
